General Iman got more furious just by looking at Akira
"We'll discuss the plan on the day of the war which is next tomorrow " Iman grinned
Akira looked at Iman with more and more suspicion but he didn't bother to go deeper into it
"Ok I'll go inside and get some rest you don't wanna kill an old man like me before the war do you?" Akira yelled
[ Inside the head quarters Akira taru and kaito's room]
Akira brought out the formidable weapons he had carefully stashed in his bag. Their cold steel gleaming with latent power.With a steady voice that concealed the weight of what he was about to say, Akira faced Kaito and Taro. "This weapon must never be used," he said quietly. "Not unless the world leaves you no other choice."
Kaito and Taru were perplexed as to why he had uttered such a word.
With a puzzled expression, Kaito turned to his father and asked what had prompted him to utter such a word.
Akira turned to Kaito and said that, should he fall, the weapons sealed within that bag each infused with high-grade venin, the very essence of their power would be left in their care.
Taru then turned to his father and asked, with a mixture of wonder and uncertainty, "Father… what exactly is venin?"
Akira's gaze hardened, the weight of history in his eyes. "Venin," he began slowly, "is not merely a force it is the lifeblood of our world, the current that flows beneath the skin of reality. It is power born of will, refined through pain, and wielded by those who understand both their strength and their limits."
He looked between Taru and Kaito, voice lowering. "But remember this: venin does not choose the worthy it tests them. It can elevate or destroy. And once it awakens within you, there is no turning back."
Kaito's voice was low, but intent burned in his eyes as he asked, "Father… do you possess venin?"
Akira gave a faint, knowing smile the kind worn by those who have seen too much. "All are born with venin, Kaito. It lies dormant in the marrow of our bones, in the silence between heartbeats. But only a few ever awaken it… fewer still survive what comes after."
He stepped forward, the faint glow of power pulsing beneath his skin. "Yes, I have awakened mine. It is both a gift and a curse one that changes you forever. The moment venin stirs, you are no longer who you were… but who you must become."
Taru leaned forward, eyes wide with fascination.
Kaito stepped beside him, barely hiding his eagerness.
"Father," Taru asked, "what does it look like when your venin is awakened?"
"Can we see it?" Kaito added, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Akira remained still for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he reached for the twin daggers sheathed at his sides curved, black-forged blades marked with ancient sigils known only to Venin Bearers.
"You won't see my venin flare from my hands or crackle in the air," he said, drawing the blades with deliberate grace.
"Mine does not scream. It whispers. It waits. And when it wakes… it chooses steel."
As he gripped the daggers tightly, the sigils along the blades began to glow first dimly, then with rising intensity. Crimson veins of fire raced across the metal, branching like lightning. A ghostly vapor coiled upward from the hilts, as though the weapons were breathing. The temperature droppednot from cold, but from the weight of spiritual force entering the space.
"My venin flows through these blades," he continued. "It is in the edge, the strike, the silence before the kill. Elemental. Ruthless. Anchored to my spirit."
Behind him, just for an instant, the faint image of his Venin Seal shimmered three interlocking rings of flame, smoke, and light.
He lowered the daggers, their glow fading. The room felt lighter again, though the memory of the moment clung to the air.
"To awaken venin," Akira said softly, "is not to gain power. It is to carry it and to be ready to bleed with it."
Namato yelled from outside, tension bristling in every word.
"If you can't control that power, old man " he snapped, "you're going to bring this whole place down."
"I've not lost control, Namato."
"Whatever old man" with a smile on his face
A week had passed.
Across the highland ridge and valley low, the twelve squads of the Order stood ready.
The air was thick with tension not of fear, but of inevitability.
One by one, the captains donned their weapons, their cloaks bearing the sigils of their respective squads. Akira, silent as ever, fastened his twin Slayer Daggers to his belt, their weight familiar an old promise he had never broken.
Horses neighed, armor clinked, and banners rose.
Behind each captain, thirteen elite soldiers stood at attention honed, chosen, and sworn to follow unto death.
Squad 12 – Captain Sakira Hanami
(Sister to Lisa Hanami. Calm, deadly precision.)
Squad 11 – Captain Koji Nakusabe
(Strategist. Iron will, no mercy.)
Squad 10 – Captain Shinji Nakamura
(Known for thunder-tactics and fierce loyalty.)
Squad 9 – Captain Zenn Kimura
(The silent blade. Shadow and ash.)
Squad 8 – Captain Aria Hoshino
(Graceful, storm-born. Whispers to the wind.)
Squad 7 – Captain Haruto Tanaka
(Spear-master. Fire in his blood.)
Squad 6 – Captain Taro Oetsu
(Stone-hearted, iron-handed. Loyal to command.)
Squad 5 – Captain Ryujin Namato
(Fierce, outspoken. Once student of Akira.)
Squad 4 – Captain Lysander Kuroba
(Chronicler of death. The black-eyed judge.)
Squad 3 – Captain Lila Katsuragi
(Quick to smile, quicker to kill.)
Squad 2 – Captain Akane Shinoda
(Ice in her voice. Death in her calm.)
Squad 1 – Captain Sylvester Iman
(Also known as General Iman, the Head Captain. His presence alone held the line between command and collapse.)
By sealed order of the High Council:
At the front of the host rode General Sylvester Iman, bearer of Squad 1's legacy and the full weight of command.
Beside him rode:
Akira, the blado slayer
Captain Ryujin Namato of Squad 5
Captain Taro Oetsu of Squad 6
Sir Nizuru, arcane tactician and counsel to the General
This unit was not simply to lead.
They were to strike first, last, and hardest.
If any formation broke they would not.
The Battle of Ashen Cross
The field of war was chosen long before the march began a wide, dead plain known as the Ashen Cross, where the bones of older wars had long since sunk into dust.
The enemy known simply as The Hollowed Host had already fortified the valley's eastern ridge. A vast army of fanatics, soldiers, and beasts, driven by something older than ideology: hunger. They moved like a tide, unbreaking, unmoved by pain.
But the Order did not bend.
The Rules of Engagement
Before the first blade was drawn, General Sylvester Iman gave a command heard in silence:
"No captain will use their venin. We fight not to show force but to prove our unity. We fight as soldiers, not gods."
And they obeyed.
Across every squad, the venin remained sealed pulsing quietly in their veins, uncalled.
The captains, legends in their own right, bore only their natural skill, their minds, and their soldiers.
Day One – The Siege Begins
At dawn, Squads 2 through 7 formed the vanguard, charging under cover of dense fog. Their mission: to split the enemy's forward line and create an opening for the cavalry.
Captain Akane Shinoda led the flanking strike with perfect precision. Her units never broke formation, even under volleys of flame arrows.
Captain Ryujin Namato fought like a beast denied his fire. His rage became strategy: his unit held the center line without losing a single soldier before sunset.
Captain Aria Hoshino's squad moved like dancers in smoke, weaving through the battlefield to support the collapsing southern edge.
But it was Captain Taro Oetsu of Squad 6 who held the western bluff. Outnumbered three-to-one, he refused to retreat, locking shields and holding the ridge until reinforcements arrived — five hours later.
One soldier said, "He stood like stone. And we became a wall."
Day Two Blood and Iron
By morning, the battlefield was thick with mud, ash, and broken steel. The Hollowed Host sent waves of berserkers to break the center and nearly succeeded.
Captain Lila Katsuragi was the first to spot the feint and redirected her unit mid-charge, cutting off the assault before it reached the command tents.
Captain Zenn Kimura, silent as shadow, led a nighttime infiltration of the enemy's backlines, severing their supply wagons without a sound.
That night, no one slept. Drums beat in the distance. The Order built pyres. They burned their dead and did not mourn. They had no time.
Day Three The Turning
At midday, a storm broke overhead.
The Hollowed Host unleashed their full strength in one overwhelming push.
The line began to fracture.
Squad 4 under Captain Lysander Kuroba held the rear defenses. He ordered a full tactical withdrawal from the eastern trench but not before laying a trap: collapsing the gorge behind him, burying over three hundred enemies in a single move.
In the center, General Sylvester Iman finally stepped into the fray.
Sword in hand, he led the forward charge himself, fighting not like a symbol but a soldier. His presence alone steadied the line.
At his side, Akira fought without activating his venin. His movements were deliberate, precise, almost cruel in their efficiency. He did not roar. He did not cry.
He cut.
On the morning of the fourth day, Sir Nizuru revealed the final maneuver:
A false retreat.
Squads 10, 11, and 12 pulled back, luring the Hollowed Host into the valley basin exactly where Squad 1 and the remaining cavalry waited, hidden beneath fog and stone.
The ambush was absolute.
Captain Sakira Hanami led the archers on the eastern cliffs.
Captain Koji Nakusabe deployed a hammer formation from the rear.
Captain Shinji Nakamura held the final stand personally delivering the blow that ended the Hollowed commander's charge.
By sundown, the Hollowed Host had broken formation.
By nightfall, they had no formation left to break.
The fires had been put out. The battlefield was silent not peaceful, but empty, like a beast that had eaten its fill.
Captain Ryujin Namato stood over the ridge, arms crossed, sword sheathed.
His eyes scanned the wreckage: twisted banners, shattered helms, corpses in threes and sevens but one detail gnawed at the edges of his mind.
Something wasn't right.
"No captain… not one…"
He muttered to himself, low.
"None of us released our venin."
He replayed the entire battle in his head the charge, the siege, the final ambush. He had watched Shinji crack open enemy flanks with nothing but brute timing. He'd seen Akira's daggers fly with frightening restraint, and Iman, the Head Captain, carving through enemy ranks without even a flicker of spiritual energy.
It was impressive. Too impressive.
And yet not a single captain had fought like a monster. Not one of them had shown what they were truly capable of.
No release.
No awakening.
Not even the second stage which Ryujin himself had only tasted once in secret training.
But then it struck him deeper.
"None of them... none of us... fought like we had the power of two captains combined.
His breath caught in his throat. His hand touched the grip of his sword, instinctively.
Iman and Nizuru.
They were still on the field.
The other captains had already withdrawn, returning with their squads to the southern barracks for report and medical treatment.
But Iman and Sir Nizuru had remained behind.
Why?
The Suspicion Builds
Ryujin turned to Zenn Kimura, who stood silently beside a burning cart, eyes narrowed.
"You feel it too," Ryujin said.
Zenn didn't answer he only nodded once.
"They didn't just withhold their venin… I think they were masking something."
"Not hiding power hiding power on purpose."
And then, a distant pulse almost imperceptible.
Not spiritual pressure.
Not a Venin flare.
Something else.
Older.
Ryujin stepped forward, eyes locked on the northern slope where General Iman and Sir Nizuru stood together, unmoving, speaking softly as if the war hadn't just ended.
Their silhouettes flickered or was it the heat?
Something about the air around them bent ever so slightly, as if reality itself was holding its breath.
"They didn't just fight differently," Ryujin whispered.
"They fought as if this battle was a test."
"And we all of us were the variables."
General Iman vs Akira The Betrayal of Ashen Cross
The battlefield was quiet.
The smoke had cleared. The last screams of war were already fading into silence.
But Akira did not leave.
He stood at the center of the Ashen Cross, blades still sheathed, cloak heavy with blood and dust.
General Sylvester Iman watched him from the slope above, arms folded behind his back.
The General had not left either.
Sir Nizuru stood at Iman's side his staff grounded, his face unreadable.
"It's over," Akira said, not turning.
"Let it stay over."
Iman did not answer.
Only his boots echoed as he descended toward Akira.
Without a word, Iman drew his blade not with fury, but with finality.
Akira turned slowly, already reaching for his daggers.
Their eyes met.
And then they moved.
Steel screamed. Sparks flew.
No fanfare. No words.
Akira met Iman's strike with a diagonal parry, twisting to the side, launching a double-blade spin meant to open the ribs.
But Iman was faster than memory stepping just enough to avoid the arc, slashing in a tight circle that would've taken most heads clean off.
They broke apart.
Akira's left shoulder was cut.
Iman's forearm bled from a nick.
"Still holding back, Sylvester?" Akira said, voice quiet.
"You should have died the first time," Iman answered.
And then the sky cracked.
Venin began to rise.
It flooded the air like molten spirit the first release either of them had shown in years.
A shockwave flattened the ash around them, and far off, in the wind…
Zenn Kimura froze mid-step.
Ryujin Namato's eyes widened.
"Venin…" he said. "Akira."
The captains turned.
They rode back, fast.
The Fight Deepens Two Giants Unleashed
Akira released his daggers.
They burned white with elemental venin not lightning, not fire, but spiritual resonance that tore the very wind apart.
Iman's blade glowed deep crimson, pulsing with control, blood-bound and cold as divine iron.
The air cracked with every clash.
Akira moved like wind, like a memory breaking free.
Iman moved like gravity unrelenting, cold, inescapable.
Blow after blow, they fought.
No war cries. No rage.
Just power.
Iman drove Akira back with a barrage of strikes that fractured stone.
Akira twisted, used the recoil, countered with a twin-spin slash that nearly disarmed Iman until the General roared and released second-phase venin, summoning a phantom mantle of armor across his shoulders.
Akira blinked blood from his eye.
His arms trembled.
"You're afraid," he said.
"That's why you're doing this."
"Because the first time we fought"
"you lost."
Suddenly
From behind.
A whisper of wind.
And Akira staggered.
His eyes widened.
Sir Nizuru stood behind him, a venin-forged dagger buried in Akira's lower back, right beneath the ribs.
"Forgive me," Nizuru whispered.
"But this was always the plan."
Akira's mouth opened.
Blood. No words.
He turned slightly and saw Iman.
The General walked slowly toward him.
Sword low. Calm. Certain.
"You were the one thing I couldn't control," he said.
"So I had to erase you."
Too Late – The Captains Arrive
A flash of movement.
Zenn Kimura appeared first, shadows warping.
Namato right after him, flame barely held back from exploding.
But they were seconds too late.
Akira turned his head toward them, breathing ragged.
He looked at Ryujin the student.
He looked at Zenn the witness.
And then he smiled, weakly.
"Don't avenge me," he said.
"Finish what we started."
Then the light in his daggers died
The Moment After
The earth stilled. The wind ceased.
Ryujin Namato dropped to his knees. His fists clenched so hard the skin tore.
Zenn Kimura stood frozen, every muscle in his body screaming to move but bound by shock.
Iman stepped back, wiping his blade.
"Let history call it mutiny," he said.
"Let the record say Akira turned."
But the silence did not agree.
The silence called it murder.
And somewhere, beneath the ashes Akira's venin still pulsed in the dirt.
After Akira fell… the Order broke.
The captains stood frozen around Akira's body.
His blood had already begun to sink into the dirt.
His daggers now dull and silent lay by his side like forgotten kings.
Then Ryujin Namato rose.
His hands trembled. His breathing shook. But his venin surged like an inferno.
"You'll pay for this," he growled.
"With everything you are."
Zenn Kimura stood beside him, silent, but his shadow wrapped around his arms like chains ready to break.
Around them, the other captains began to arrive Koji, Akane, Sakira, Haruto, Aria, Lila, Lysander, Taro, and more their eyes filled with horror and rage.
Each one began to glow their venin awakening in full.
Thirteen captains.
One purpose.
Justice.
A Portal Opens
But Iman was already prepared.
He whispered a phrase under his breath one only he knew.
And then it happened:
A tearing sound, like silk being ripped from the soul
and a portal of black-gold energy burst open behind him.
"This world is too soft for what's coming," Iman said calmly.
"And none of you are ready."
Ryujin dashed forward, sword blazing red
Zenn vanished into shadows to intercept
Sakira shouted, "Do NOT let him leave!"
But
Shinji Nakamura appeared in front of the portal and blocked Ryujin's strike.
Zenn's attack was parried by someone he didn't expect
Sir Nizuru.
The captains froze.
"You too?" Zenn whispered.
"You coward."
Shinji's face was pale.
"He'll kill us all," Shinji muttered.
"You don't know what he is now."
Then Iman raised his hand and he, Nizuru, and Shinji disappeared through the portal.
It closed.
Just like that.
Gone.
Far away, back at the Order's central compound, Taru and Kaito were training under the old cedar when it hit them.
A sharp drop in the world's weight.
A coldness.
Kaito fell to one knee. His hand clutched his chest.
Taru gasped.
"You feel that?" Kaito said, voice cracking.
"That's… that's Akira's venin."
Taru's eyes welled with tears.
"It's gone," he said.
"He's gone."
As his blood stained the earth… his voice carried farther than his strength.
Akira dropped to one knee, the blade of betrayal still in his back.
His daggers now flickering with dying venin fell from his hands, striking the ground with a dull chime.
Zenn caught him before he hit the ground completely.
Namato knelt beside him, trembling.
Akira's eyes fluttered open one last time.
And then he spoke.
His voice was faint. But every syllable felt like it had been carved from stone.
"Don't look at me."
"Look ahead."
He coughed blood on his lip. But his smile still came.
> "They betrayed me because they feared what I protected."
"Don't become what killed me... become what they couldn't control."
Zenn held his hand.
"You'll live, Akira," he said, voice shaking.
"Hold on"
But Akira shook his head.
"My fight ends here..."
"But yours begins where mine was betrayed."
His gaze lifted to the horizon not to what was, but what could be.
And his last breath came with his last words
"Let them bury my body… but let my venin live in the next blade that rises."
And then still, silent, immortal
Akira died.
Akira's body arrives at the heart of the Order.
The gates of the Headquarters creaked open, not with pride but with grief.
Ten captains rode in silence.
Their banners were half-folded. Their weapons sheathed.
And in the center, draped in a dark blue shroud that bore the faded crest of Squad Five
Akira's body lay motionless.
The sky over the courtyard had turned a strange gray, as if the sun itself mourned.
No bells rang.
Only the sound of hooves on stone and two pairs of soft footsteps approaching from the inner hall.
Kaito and Taru.
Both fifteen. Both shaking.
Still wearing their practice robes, still hoping they were wrong.
But the moment they saw the cloth-wrapped figure
The hope shattered.
Kaito took one step forward and stopped.
His voice was barely a whisper.
"So… it's true."
"He's really dead."
No one spoke.
Not Namato. Not Zenn. Not even General Iman's name dared be spoken.
Taru's breath hitched. His lips trembled.
"No. No, he said he'd come back. He said
But Kaito slowly walked forward, his eyes locked on Akira's still form.
"He was always stronger than all of them," Kaito said, tears beginning to fall.
"He never raised his voice. Never even used his full power."
He clenched his fists so hard his nails cut his palm.
"So this… this is how they repay him?"
Namato lowered his head.
Zenn turned away, silent.
Kaito looked down at the body and dropped to his knees beside it.
"You said to look ahead…" he whispered.
"But how do we move forward when they took our whole future?"
Taru knelt beside him, silent. Crying.
And Kaito said one last thing, just loud enough for the courtyard to hear:
"The world may have feared you, Akira… but we loved you more."
Then he bowed deeply his forehead pressed to the cloth and the courtyard went still.